


Tag

by yeaka



Series: A Honeycomb Tree [10]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Comeplay, Half-Mirrorverse, M/M, Master/Servant, PWP, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:24:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim inappropriately asks for a taste and has to settle for a feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tag

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Xmas fill for anon [on tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/66814629392/musing) who asked for “Kirk basically being a massive cum slut and Spock being a tease, playing with Jim's ass (with or without toys) until he gives in and finally fucks Jim and comes in him”. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

As soon as the doors open, footsteps clatter through the large cabin. Spock lets the doors close behind himself and removes his boots; his shift is over for the day. His double shift. Jim’s at Spock’s feet in a second, just like he always is, just like Spock knew he’d be. But their last conversation about it was just yesterday, and really, there is no excuse for this behaviour. 

Spock pulls his blue tunic over his head, ready to change out of his uniform, and steps forward. He doesn’t get any further than that, as Jim’s instantly blocking his way. Jim’s already on all fours, already naked, the way he was left. Jim lifts up to his knees, his hands landing on Spock’s thighs. The way his body moves is nothing short of sinful, arching forward with his ass stuck out so Spock gets a nice view of both luscious cheeks, his legs needlessly spread and his cock half-hard in the air. His hands slide up Spock’s thighs, and Jim buries his face in Spock’s crotch, nose digging in and teeth scraping the fabric, warm breath spreading moisture and voice moaning, “That took _forever_.”

Spock, holding a breath to not react, lifts an eyebrow. He gathers the strength to resist his mate’s allure, and he attempts to push Jim away, though Jim’s strong and won’t budge more than a few centimeters. Spock says dryly, “Your ability to exaggerate never ceases to fascinate me.” A double shift is, indeed, difficult, particularly on days where it wasn’t planned and Spock didn’t bring Jim to the bridge—so much time apart—but they’re hardly timeless. 

Clearly disagreeing, Jim parts his lips and mouths at Spock through his pants, more heat and dampness, whining beautifully, “I was so _thirsty_ , and you weren’t here to feed me, and you didn’t even touch me this morning...”

“I had work to do.” 

“I _missed_ you,” Jim moans, eyes fluttering closed as he presses his tongue into the growing bulge in front of him. The rest of Spock’s body is growing tenser—Jim’s supposed to be trained better than this. Spock always told himself that if the Empire granted him enough to afford a personal servant, he wouldn’t indulge. He would use them properly, like a yeoman with the occasional head-clearing benefit. But Jim... Jim has a way of utterly ruining that oh-so-carefully held together resolve. Jim laps away at him like his pants are coated with honey. 

Spock slips his fingers into Jim’s golden hair and takes a firm grip, pushing him away. Jim whimpers and croons, tongue darting uselessly out at the air. Spock’s dick twitches in response, just at the sight alone, and maybe at the overwhelming desire he can feel pulsating through his eager servant. Spock forces his voice steady, and he tells Jim, “You cannot act this shamefully every time I return.”

Blue eyes dart up to him, burning. “I can’t help it.” Jim licks his lips, tilts his head back, and nips at Spock’s wrist. Spock pulls away as if he’s been scalded—Jim’s mouth on his hands is almost as dangerous as Jim’s mouth on his cock. Jim leans forward again to rest his cheek on Spock’s crotch, rubbing into it while he moans, “You know how much I love being with you. And when I’m thirsty but you’re not here to feed me your delicious Vulcan cum, I—”

Spock steps back and walks briskly around Jim, gate just a tad more rigid than usual. He lets Jim get away with too much, he knows that. He indulges Jim too much. Jim’s a smart little thing, manipulative at times, a natural leader—it’s a wonder he hasn’t ended up a captain at the head of the Fleet. Maybe that’s why he made his contract so irresistible to Spock; start with fucking the current captain, make his way up...

Except Spock knows that isn’t true, and he can practically sense the sincerity in Jim as he calls, “ _Spock_ —”

Spock stops in his bedroom and rids himself of his black undershirt, leaving the pants, and he heads for a set of drawers for a civilian set—it lets others know when they pester at his quarters or over the console that he’s off duty and won’t go back on under any circumstances. He doesn’t make it to the drawers; Jim draws him back by wrapping tight arms around his middle and biting at the back of his neck. The smooth skin of Jim’s chest, hard and chiseled around his six-pack, flattens into Spock’s spine. He can feel Jim’s nipples just at his shoulder blades, pebbled in the lukewarm air. The Enterprise is too cold by Vulcan standards, but his crew is mostly human. Jim’s warm, so warm...

Jim gets in a good few licks before Spock elbows him lightly, needing to knock him off. Jim stumbles back to the floor with an ‘oof,’ arms falling away, clutching instead at his side. Insubordination doesn’t even begin to cover him. When Spock glances back at him, he doesn’t look hurt, just a little miffed, and he looks up at Spock with the same hard longing as earlier. Spock holds the gaze until Jim looks back down to his crotch. 

Sometimes, Spock wonders how he wound up with a rebellious little human. There were plenty of other options the Empire gave him—the facility he strolled through had Andorians, Romulans, a Vulcan or two—even a genetically engineered human that would’ve surely had more self control. But no. Spock saw Jim and it was over that second; he knew that _Jim_ was the one he had to have. 

And now he has a gorgeous, horny, genius monstrosity kneeling at his feet that doesn’t seem to understand the right position beyond sexual pleasure. ...Or perhaps Jim just feels entitled to his own pleasure. 

He licks his lips and crawls forward to lick over Spock’s clothed cock again, insisting in a sensual whine, “I get it, you don’t spend all day thinking about fucking me the way I do about you, but now that you’re here and see what you’re missing... surely you can take a few minutes out of your busy schedule to _come in my mouth._ ” His voice gets filthier as his words do. His eyes close at the end, nose inhaling, mouth back to work, tracing the outline of Spock’s dick, now at half-mast. Jim blows at him through the fabric. Jim’s... nothing but trouble. 

Spock’s throat is drier than he’d like to admit. He does think about Jim half the day, far more than he should, but he’s not about to say that. “I have work to do.”

“Be my guest.” Jim grins against him and practically growls, “And while you sit at your console, I’ll sit between your legs and swallow your cock, and bob up and down on it over and over, fucking my own throat on your cock until you burst and fill me up with your hot seed, and then I’ll drink it all down and suck and suck until you feed me another—”

Spock grabs Jim’s hair. He pulls Jim up rougher than he means to, ignoring the pleased whine Jim makes. Around the wince, Jim looks victorious, like he’s won. 

He hasn’t. 

Spock tosses him over the bed easily. He bounces lightly on the mattress, draped over it sideways, facedown, head hanging over the edge, legs in the air. He pushes back to his elbow and tries to get up, maybe to turn and lie in the pillows, but Spock says sharply, “Stay.”

Jim, for once in his life, listens. ...Even if he does do it with a mischievous grin. Spock half expects him to start wiggling his ass, trying to give more incentive, trying to be enticing, but it’s his mouth he fixates on today. Spock could just bring Jim water, but he knows that wouldn’t suffice. Jim lifts one arm slowly, taps his own lips, and pops one finger into his mouth. His lips seal around it, and he starts to piston in and out, looking over at Spock from beneath half-lowered lashes. 

Spock tries not to think about how much he’d like that to be _his_ finger. His hand. Jim can suck those just as well as cock, and Vulcan hands are particularly sensitive. Spock would be glaring at Jim if it weren’t above his dignity. 

He says instead, “You will be punished.”

Pulling his finger out and licking at his palm, Jim purrs, “Oh? Are you going to fuck my mouth so hard that you rub my throat raw? Or are you going to feed me so much cum that I choke on it? Or maybe you’ll come all over my face and paint me so thickly that—”

Spock abruptly stops listening; that voice will be the death of him. 

He can’t resist, yes, he needs _Jim_ , needs it _now_ , but he’s not going to give Jim what he wants. Spock’s the master, as Jim so often forgets, and Spock’s going to take what he wants. It takes him barely a few seconds to formulate how he’ll do it. He steps between Jim’s legs, reaches for Jim’s thighs, and drags Jim back along the bed. Jim yelps as he’s jerked over it, chin slapping the mattress. Spock pulls him right back up to the side, his legs over it and to either side of Spock, his ass just at the edge, his back and face and arms resting on the mattress. When Jim tries to lift up, Spock shoves him down. 

While Jim squirms to get comfortable, Spock holds onto Jims inner thighs, keeping them open. He strokes them lightly as he decrees, “I will have you, because it is my own will to do so, but you will _not_ have the pleasure of tasting any of my seed tonight, and the next time you kiss me, any part of me, you will find yourself out in the hallway.” Jim stops writhing instantly. 

It’s not a hollow threat. Jim’s more than capable of holding his own in the hallway, and when he must be punished, he must be punished. Denying him _Spock_ has thus far proven the most effective punishment. Tonight, Jim frowns, no, glares. He looks over his shoulder to pout, “You’re a dick sometimes, Spock.”

“Be that as it may, it is your own fault you will not be tasting _my_ dick.” Jim snorts, either at the crude language or the semi-joke, something Spock’s learned to manage only because of and only for Jim. It seems to placate Jim somewhat, perhaps because it makes it clear that Spock’s not really mad. 

Spock is, however, only growing harder at the new position. Jim may not be nuzzling at his cock anymore, but now he’s got Jim’s ass in his face, plush and round and ripe for the taking. Jim’s taut cheeks seem to call to him, and Spock waits for Jim to still completely and to quiet. Jim takes an extra moment to relax, probably catching on. Spock stares at the way his whole body rises and falls gracefully with his breathing, evening into a steady, pretty rhythm. His cock is out of sight, crushed beneath the mattress, but his balls are visibly squished beneath him, running up between his cheeks, leading to a pink, puckered hole, half-obscured. Only then does Spock slide his hands over Jim’s ass, and he uses his thumbs to carefully part Jim’s cheeks, just taking a look. 

Jim didn’t prepare himself today; that much is obvious. He must’ve thought he’d get what he wanted, that he’d only get the drink he seems to so crave. His hole is as tight as ever, tiny and beautiful. It almost seems a shame to disturb it wide enough to stick a cock in. At the same time, it’d be an even greater shame not to play with something so utterly enticing. Spock dives forward all in one quick rush, giving no warning. 

The top of his tongue presses into Jim’s hole, and Jim gasps instantly. Spock’s still holding him apart but releases one cheek to slap it instead, hard and unforgiving. Jim cries out, and Spock can feel Jim’s flesh jiggle slightly next to his cheek. He spanks it again, then again, half a dozen times, and then he drops his hand to it and squeezes while he laps at Jim’s hole. He purposely builds saliva up in his mouth and pushes it forward. He circles his tongue around the tight rim and then flattens his entire tongue over it, drawing Jim’s cheeks wider apart for extra room. There’s something about the taste of his mate that Spock enjoys far too much. He slips two fingers closer to the hole, trying to stretch it open. 

He worms his tongue inside, and Jim moans as he pistons into it, mouth sealed around the outside. Jim’s a writhing mess, but Spock’s fingers hold his as still. Jim whines, “N... no... you don’t have to do that... Spock, let me taste you... _please_.” The more Spock denies Jim something, the more he’ll inevitably want it. Even when he’s getting his hole tongue-fucked instead. Spock sucks and wets and stretches and claims Jim’s hole, deeper and deeper until he can almost reach Jim’s special spot, his entire mouth full of Jim’s ass. He keeps it up until Jim’s groaning and squirming makes it almost impossible to stay down. 

Then he pulls out and draws his mouth along the cheek he hasn’t spanked yet. He sinks his teeth into it, just a short little bite, something to make Jim yelp. He pulls back, and he raises his hand over both cheeks, smacking them hard. Even when Jim’s head turns away, he can see the wince in Jim’s shoulder blades. He hesitates on the next blow—perhaps this isn’t necessary to the punishment—but then Jim looks over his shoulder again, biting his plush lip. 

“You want to fuck my ass? Fine. But at least let me suck some cum out of that gorgeous cock first so you can use it for lube...” Spock immediately spanks him—Jim flinches but keeps begging, hips now writhing in a way that’s almost humping the mattress, “At least let me get a little taste, let me suck some precum—ah!” Spock’s fallen into a heavy rhythm, all hard smacks across both cheeks that leave Jim whimpering deliciously. Spock hits him over and over again. 

The Vulcan anatomy does come with many perks human physiology doesn’t, particularly in the bedroom, and it’s true that Spock often uses his copious amounts of precum as lube. He does normally let Jim suck the first round out of him, get his juices flowing out, but now is _not_ going to be one of those times. He’ll get hard his own way. Seeing Jim’s hips jerking is having an effect on Spock’s dick, the feel of Jim’s warm flesh beneath his fingertips and the sound of Jim’s cries only helping. Spock spanks and spanks until his hand is almost sore and Jim’s practically in tears, and when he finally stops, he’s breathing hard. Jim’s stifling a sob, and Jim glances back at him, pupils still blown ridiculously wide. 

Actually, fucking Jim hadn’t been in the original plan. In a way, it will be giving Jim what he wants. 

But Spock doesn’t actually have much work to do today, and seeing Jim lying there, so open and inviting, hole twitching cutely in the aftermath, makes it very hard to resist. Spock takes a few more licks of it, then pushes to his feet.

As soon as Spock unzips his pants, Jim lifts one elbow, looking back like a starved puppy about to get milk. Spock repeats plainly, “You will not have the privilege of tasting it.” And Jim’s face immediately twists into a scowl. Normally, he loves to be fucked. But he also normally gets all his initial requests met, and Jim’s nothing if not a brat. 

He still hikes his knees onto the bed, lifting his ass in the air. Spock smacks it again, and Jim grunts, crawling forward. It gives Spock just enough space to climb on behind his pet, and as he drapes his long body over Jim’s, he chides, “If you had behaved yourself, you would’ve gotten what you wanted.”

“You should leave me a bowl of it, next time,” Jim mutters, looking away, but the sincerity in his voice is obvious. It’s a strange thing for a servant to request, but he and Jim have always had a strange relationship. Spock’s about to say that Jim is allowed to synthesize water any time he needs it, but, as if on cue, Jim looks back and insists, lashes fluttering and lips wet and plush from being chewed, “Your cum tastes so much _better_ than water.” With a small smirk, he adds, “And it’s nutritious. Lots of protein.” As if Jim ever pays much attention to his health. 

Spock concedes, “If you behave tonight, I will leave you a bowl of my seed tomorrow.” As Jim’s grin increases, Spock finish sternly, “However, tonight you are still being punished.” Jim’s nose scrunches, but he doesn’t say anything, just lifts his ass higher to rub into Spock’s crotch. 

Spock kisses the back of Jim’s golden head, and he reaches down to pull himself out of his pants. He’s fully hard, leaking a little, and he lines himself up between Jim’s cheeks, resting his forehead on Jim’s neck while he looks down between them. As Spock holds the head of his leaking cock against Jim’s barely stretched hole, Jim mumbles, “You’re going to fuck me, though? For punishment?”

Nipping the shell of one round ear—one of Jim’s most exotic features—Spock reminds him, “Without adequate preparation.”

He can hear the slight grin in Jim’s voice. “I don’t know if you’re a tease or a hypocrite.” Spock’s not sure Jim understands either of those terms, but to be fair, he’s not in the best position to think straight. His body tenses for a split second before it gradually relaxes, and Spock waits for that before he pushes himself in, so slow that he has to grit his teeth. Jim’s breath catches and holds. Spock pushes, pushes, pops a bit inside and pulls out, pushes back in. In the lack of stretching, he’ll have to piston his way inside; Jim’s too _tight_ for anything else, and Spock’s hardly a small player. The heat and pressure and the velvet-silk of Jim’s inner walls is nothing short of bliss. Every time Spock slides inside Jim’s perfect body, he has to wonder why he doesn’t just do this as soon as he returns to his quarters, every single day. 

Spock pauses, breathes, tries to regain control, and pistons harder. Jim’s face is turned against the mattress, fists in the covers, ass held up, back arched sensually. Spock slips one hand beneath Jim’s stomach to hold him in place, the other tracing over Jim’s wrist, Jim’s knuckles, the back of Jim’s hand. Jim, knowing the significance of this, groans, “You said no kissing...”

“I said you could not kiss me,” Spock corrects, and his voice is a near hiss, his cock getting farther and farther inside, each new centimeter making it that much harder for his logic to flow. “You will taste no part of me.” But Spock is going to taste everything Jim is, and he licks a single bead of sweat off the back of Jim’s neck, knowing if their positions were reversed, the restraint might drive him mad. He kisses his way around Jim’s neck, over Jim’s cheek, nipping at Jim’s jaw line and avoiding Jim’s lips, being that ‘tease’ Jim accused him of. Jim shuts his eyes, and for a moment, it looks like he’s in pain, and Spock knows it isn’t at all related to the way his ass is being torn apart. 

Spock finally, finally slams all the way inside, so deep that he has to stop to just appreciate it, being fully sheathed in his lover’s body. He rolls his hips and grinds, making sure there’s no room left between them, everything’s in, and Jim’s breath quickens, his stomach fluttering beneath Spock’s fingertips. Jim lifts the hand that Spock isn’t holding as if to reach back, but Spock growls sharply, and Jim drops it in an instant. Jim makes a frustrated growl of his own and rolls his hips. Spock returns to kissing and biting Jim, the feral instincts of a Vulcan at its core driving him to mark his mate as thoroughly as he can. He _should_ be feeding Jim more of his cum; Jim should smell and taste like _his_ , be accustomed to what he can drink from Spock’s dick, crave Spock more than anything else. Just like he already does. Spock adjusts his angle, because he isn’t a complete monster. He finds the perfect spot to make it good for Jim, and he pulls out to smash into it. 

Jim shrieks in pleasure. He tries to push his ass back onto the heavy cock inside him, but Spock’s already slipping away, only to ram inside a split second later, nearly throwing Jim’s hips down. He slams in again, then again, hard enough to make Jim cry out every time, and he knows that if he weren’t holding Jim up, Jim might collapse. Jim’s thighs tremble and his hips jerk while Spock repeatedly thrusts inside, brutally fucking his pretty mate. His own precum eases the way, and Jim’s delicious ass only milks more and more out of him. He could fuck Jim for hours like this, fuck him all night, and could go longer since he didn’t let Jim suck him before hand. He could spill load after load into Jim’s ass, barely pausing in between rounds, spear Jim over and over. He could even roll them over and force Jim to do it, make an exhausted, spent Jim bounce up and down on his cock, no matter how many times Jim succeeded in providing him release. Spock knows he’s a lucky man. 

He wants Jim to feel lucky too, even if Jim is being punished, and he slips his fingers lower down Jim’s stomach. He encloses them around Jim’s cock, iron hard and swinging helplessly between his legs. Jim croons the second Spock touches it, and Spock growls against his ear, “I am not sure you deserve release...”

Jim moans so loud it almost drowns out the dirty slapping sounds, both their breathing and both their heartbeats. He struggles to say, “But... but you’ll let me...”

“Oh?” Spock squeezes Jim’s cock, holding it tight, but he doesn’t stroke. He keeps fucking Jim brutally, slamming into Jim’s prostate again and again and enjoying every squealing, gasping sound Jim makes. 

Jim grunts on a particularly hard thrust, and he hisses, “You’ll let me, because you love me.”

Spock bites Jim’s ear hard enough to bruise, and Jim buries his face in the mattress to muffle his scream. He’s such an obstinate thing. 

But he isn’t wrong. 

Someday, Spock really will fuck him right through the night, pound his spent body into the mattress no matter how much he cries, but Jim will have to do far worse to earn it. Spock’s fingers begin to move, pumping Jim’s cock up and down with his thrusts. He lets himself grow close, because he can sense Jim’s getting close. Jim’s practically lunging into his hand and back onto his cock, hips rocking between him, the perfect fit and the perfect motion. Jim was made for this, for just him. He fucks Jim so hard that his own control begins to ebb away, his throat echoing shameful sounds and his skin heating to the point of sweat. He wants to turn Jim’s head and kiss Jim’s mouth, but he _resists._

He lets his stomach tighten and a mindless pleasure wash over him, seep out through his veins and cloud his head. He’s close, so close. He squeezes and milks Jim’s cock until Jim can’t take it anymore. Jim gives in and _screams_ , thighs tensing and ass spasming, cock bursting in his grip. Cum spurts all over Spock’s hand and the blankets, and he keeps pounding into Jim while the orgasm wracks Jim’s whole body. Spock pounds into Jim so hard that he collapses, even with Spock’s hand beneath him, landing right in his own pool of cum. Spock keeps fucking him into it, the new angle not stopping them for a second. 

And then Spock follows suit, clenches his jaw and lets his own orgasm roll through him. His mind and vision go blank, his face buried in Jim’s hair so that all he can smell is _Jim_ , and that fuels his still-going hips. He rides all his own shudders out, thrust after thrust after delicious, heady thrust. 

And then he’s spilled all he has to give, and he collapses heavily atop his Jim, cum leaking out all around him. Jim’s tight ass is never quite enough to hold it all in, not with how much Vulcans produce. If Jim were capable, he’d be pregnant without question. 

Instead, he’s just satiated and panting, and he worms out from under Spock with some effort. Spock barely moves, doesn’t help. Jim makes it onto his side, rolling over to cuddle up to Spock, and he tries to lean in for a kiss. 

Spock leans away, sighing in resignation and not at all surprised that Jim didn’t listen. Jim sticks out his tongue. 

Jim reaches behinds himself. His hand disappears from view, but Spock can guess what it’s doing. When it returns, it’s covered in the sticky white substance that Jim’s forbidden to have. Jim pops three fingers at once into his mouth before Spock can stop him, and his eyes slide closed as he releases a very pleasured moan. 

He pistons his own hand in and out, cheeks hollowing out as he sucks and licks away at them, while Spock’s cum dribbles out along his lips and down his palm and chin. Spock’s both disappointed in his pet and traitorously turned on. Jim finally pulls the fingers out, making a show of licking off his thumb, and he looks at Spock with such mischief in his blue eyes that Spock has half a mind to throw him out in the hallway this very second. 

Instead, Spock sighs dryly, “Are you happy now?” He couldn’t have expected anything else. Jim reaches down between his legs, pulling out more. Jim’s a filthy little creature, but few in the Empire are pure. Spock knows he’s too indulgent, too fond of a man that can never really be his _mate_ outside of these doors. 

But Jim is, and Jim says, “Always.” He’s nothing but smiles. 

He leans over for that forbidden kiss, and Spock finds himself indulging one more time.


End file.
